


the enemy in his head

by JoinTheWeb



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Hope you enjoy, Just stalling until I have enough patience to continue the other thing I'm working on, and comments, dont forget to leave kudos, pretty depressing, wow tag things is fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoinTheWeb/pseuds/JoinTheWeb
Summary: I have no idea what I wrote, I just did it because I am bored and no else want to entertain me.I do hope you will love read it!and, our traditional warning: i'm not speaking English. Sorry for any kind of mistakes.and, i mean it: please, write a comment! I do want to get better, but i wont be able to if you guys wont write and let me know what i do wrong!Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles. (Yes I know I haven't wrote that before. Sue me!). (Not really guys, i am saving my money for a new phone and a new amplifier for my guitar. I need the money.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I wrote, I just did it because I am bored and no else want to entertain me.  
> I do hope you will love read it!
> 
> and, our traditional warning: i'm not speaking English. Sorry for any kind of mistakes.  
> and, i mean it: please, write a comment! I do want to get better, but i wont be able to if you guys wont write and let me know what i do wrong!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles. (Yes I know I haven't wrote that before. Sue me!).   
> (Not really guys, i am saving my money for a new phone and a new amplifier for my guitar. I need the money.)

Something…something is wrong with his head.

He can’t stop think about what he sees in his dreams. Meditations. Every time he closes his eyes in the same time.

All he does it just train. All day long.

He… sometimes he gets on Raphe’s nerves on purpose, and doesn’t stop calling him names until his hot-headed brother knocks him out cold. He… he doesn’t under-understand wh-why he see it.

His brother’s death. His father’s death. His friends’ death.

Everyone who ever talked, or touched, or looked, or listened to him.

It’s not… it’s not all.

He can see his brothers move before they know they will move. He can see his enemies strike before they know they will. He knows what show will be on the TV before Mikey turn it on. He knows his father’s advice before he offers it. He knows what there will be on the table before he knows what’s on the fridge.

He can see… everything.

He stopped eat.

He stopped watching his stupid TV show.

He stopped talk to his brothers.

But the last thing wasn’t his fault- how could he talk to any of them, when every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is them, screaming in pain, begging for him to save them. How can he talk to Splinter when he knows exactly when, where, and from what the old rat will die from?

He knows he would probably die too, soon. He doesn’t find time or will to care about that. Actually, he looking forwards to that.

It was hard to determined why he didn’t just killed himself. But every time he thought about it all of his body shook and everything inside him told him that this is wrong. That he can’t kill himself. That it is not honorable, that his is not right. he was raised to cherish and respect all life, including his own.

He couldn’t stop draw them too. What he saw. He just couldn’t. there must be couple hundreds of the sketches by now, all of them in is drawer. He all ways had some kind of talent for drawing. He never used colors, and never went out of the real world. He stopped himself in the borders of surreal.  There was no point in wandering, or in imagining what ifs.

He knew he need to talk to someone about what he feels. That he needed to stop drawing the deaths, the agony, the pain. That he needed to afford himself imagine another world, where their fate wouldn’t be death. Where they were not born to die.

He was sure of that.

Until… until he the day when the death of his father, master, sensei was meant to happened.

He watched with long-dead eyes how the sword that meant to kill his father got near his father throat, waited for the beginning of the end to accord. For everything to change.

He watched.

And waited.

And… it didn’t happen. The Foot soldier sword was thrown to the floor, drooped from his moving hand. It took him a second to understand what happened. Donatello came behind the Foot and stabbed him, right in the back. His father, full of sweat and wounds and cuts and pain, stood there, exhausted.

But alive.

His blood still flowing in his veins.

His warm-blooded still warm.

His furry, familiar, comforting still move.

Still fight.

And suddenly, food have taste again.

The things he does have meaning.

And the drawing in his drawer don’t have any.

But it won’t last.

He knows it won’t. it can’t

Between their countless enemies, their arguments, their fights, their lack of worry, between the life they lead, something had to changed so they will survive. Something that will ensure their life’s continuity.

So now he is staring at something he buried under junk and trash, never thought a day will come and he will use it.

It was a burner phone, that was never activated before. But he knew there is only one phone number in the phones- Shredder’s phone number. The Foot’s phone number. His sworn enemies.

The phone was from that time when Shredder tried to convince him to join the Foot. The phone was a silent promise, a last get-away.

And he was about to take it.

THAT’S what needed to change.

He needed to protect his family from the agony, from the pain, from the bloodshed, from the death, from the tears and hurt and lost and sadness and from everything he saw.

Was he willing to go against everything he knew, to ignore any moral value that was inside of him, and swing his sword alongside the people he hates only so he can protect them? To spear them all of the pain?

Yes.

And that’s how he knew that something is wrong with is head.


End file.
